Jackson thinks there are a load of better things he could be doing than standing here in the scorching sun in a foreign country outside a police station.

It’s too bad he really doesn’t have a choice, then.

He squints up at the building, beams of light bouncing off the tinted glass windows and cream walls, one last time, before finally stepping in, blinking in relief at the much-appreciated shade and cool air that rushes to greet him.

It’s sort of what he’d been expecting, to be honest. The same sort of layout as the old place in Busan, just classier and more polished and overall more expensive looking. But that’s the kind of treatment the capital receives, right? And that’s sort of the reason why he’s here. Sort of.

But he's not supposed to think about that now, not yet.

“Jackson-sshi.”

It’s said like a statement, sort of bored and sort of obligatory, and Jackson raises an eyebrow in the direction of the young man who’s just called him, through the uniforms and home team staff milling around purposefully, all carrying important photocopied documents and files or in the midst of hasty phone calls. It’s a bespectacled boy in a plaid shirt and black slacks with sharp eyes, watching him carefully through rather expressive dark eyes. The blue lanyard around his neck tells Jackson he’s from tech support, and the identification card attached to it reads Choi Youngjae.

Oh. This guy.

“Am I that popular around here already?” Jackson pretends to ask innocently, and Youngjae, if that’s his name, chuckles, as if he’s used to guys like him.

“You’d like to think so, wouldn’t you?” Youngjae flips the clipboard in his hand to let Jackson see, and Jackson’s impressed to see his bio over there already, complete with his age, education, nationality, and height and weight. "You're the new transfer, aren't you? I was put in charge of compiling your bio from the material the Busan division sent us. You skipped out on filling out a load of stuff back there, you know that?"

“Strange,” Jackson leans over, squinting. “This doesn't say nothing about “drop-dead gorgeous” or “wild and y”. Maybe you got the wrong guy, kid.”

“We’re not paying you to be gorgeous,” Youngjae deadpans, plucking a pen from his pocket. “We’re paying you to crack down on organized crime. And that’ll start with authenticating and filling some some info here before you go up to see the overall supervisor.”

“You’re no fun,” Jackson grumbles, taking the clipboard and pen, before walking over to the front desk, eyes scanning the page. Without lifting his eyes off the page, he continues speaking. “What’s your name, cutiepie?”

“Choi Youngjae,” Youngjae doesn’t seem the least bit fazed. “Analyst, but they usually drag me into running tech support because we’re probably going to forever be low on human resources. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Jackson reaches up, still looking at the paper, to pat him on the back, impressed. “Smart kid,” then, “bet you know all about me too.”

“I’d like to think so,” Youngjae replies absently, idly plucking at a stray thread from his lanyard. “I know someone who’ll probably know a lot more than me in the next few minutes, though.”

“And who might that fine person be?” Jackson flips the page, lip protruding in distaste at all the tiny font, before lifting the clipboard for Youngjae to see. “Damn, kid, who reads stuff like this?”

It’s just then, as he raises the board, rolling his eyes, that someone walks by- well, walking by would be an inaccurate term. He sort of walks into the clipboard with such force that it almost goes flying out of Jackson’s hand to decapitate the nearest harmlessly passing janitor, and Jackson reels, winded.

“Excuse you,” he says, affronted, before seeing who it is.

It occurs to him about 0.351 seconds later that this is probably someone he shouldn’t exactly be throwing words around with (though that’s never actually stopped him from said throwing words around) when the other man straightens, coming to almost half a head taller than Jackson, broad shoulders obvious even through the dark blue shirt tagged with Traffic and Arson- Chief, eyes dark with the sort of intensity that grounds people just with a simple momentary visual contact.

Jackson honestly thinks this should ring a bell, but he also honestly can’t remember right now (also the fact that he can’t be assed) and blinks inquisitively as the other man barely gives him a glance, muttering a “sorry” before walking straight on towards the stairs leading down, obviously lost in thought.

“Cool people you got around here,” Jackson comments, once he’s out of sight, turning back to Youngjae, who’s wearing a suspiciously smug look on his face. “Who’s that guy?”

“Gosh, I dunno,” Youngjae shrugs exaggeratedly, before nodding towards the stairs. “Maybe you should go see the supervisor first, and get your new partner assignment. I’ll tell you if I remember when you get down.”

Jackson scoffs. “Thanks, kid. I feel real supported here.”

Youngjae smiles sweetly. “I’m not supporting you unless I’m shouting facts at you through an earpiece while you head into a hostile building with a Specialist team behind you. Now go up and see him before I let you know how annoying that feels prematurely.”

Jackson mutters dissent as he takes to the stairs, wondering when the last time he’d been dissed like that had been. A split second later, though, sees him shifting his focus to the unease bubbling at the pit of his stomach as he gathers his wits about him properly, just enough to actually remember who that guy is.

“Damn,” he says out loud in English, once he’s at the top, attracting the uncertain glances of several passing admin workers carrying boxes labelled with evidence. Jackson can’t be assed to care about them, though, not when the memory certainly warrants a thoughtful exclamation, if not more.

He’s going to have to work a lot harder than he originally thought.

(That’s never stopped him before, though.)

a/n: shorter update so it came faster ahaha oops. I have a few chapters down (my baobei would know that >.>) but i'm still a bit nervous about what I want to include so I'm hanging onto them ahah. I haven't written a chaptered fic in ages omg. also this is going a lot slower than i thought it would /nervous/ I hope this was okay, omg, I seriously have no idea what on earth I'm doing rn. I'll do better next time T.T